


Liability

by Warp5Complex_Archivist



Category: Star Trek: Enterprise
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-02-03
Updated: 2007-02-02
Packaged: 2018-08-15 17:49:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,090
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8066938
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Warp5Complex_Archivist/pseuds/Warp5Complex_Archivist
Summary: The death of a crewmember divides the crew at a time when they most need to be united. OC death. (01/15/2007)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Kylie Lee, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Warp 5 Complex](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Warp_5_Complex), the software of which ceased to be maintained and created a security hazard. To make future maintenance and archive growth easier, I began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in August 2016. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but I may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Warp 5 Complex collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/Warp5Complex).

  
Author's notes: Spoilers: Possible spoilers for anything through the first three seasons, although nothing I can think of specifically.  
  
Beta: Surya kindly beta'ed this and made it much better, but then I made a significant revision, and undoubtedly added a lot of errors.  


* * *

It was quiet, and, with most of the lights dimmed, the room was peaceful. The animals had been fed, so the chirping and chattering that made up the day-time soundtrack of sickbay were absent. Phlox bent over his microscope enjoying the peace and the opportunity to catch up on a little of the research for which he so seldom had time. He didn't need to sleep on the same schedule as his human colleagues, requiring only six days of hibernation a year, a difference for which he was quite grateful. How their species had advanced when they lost nearly a third of each day to unconsciousness was a mystery to him. He had learned to appreciate the hours the majority of the crew used to indulge in sleep, and the opportunities they afforded him.

Too soon the peaceful interlude came to an abrupt end. He hit the button next to him to stop the incessant buzzing of the intercom, and was assaulted by Commander Tucker's agitated voice. "Doctor! The away team is on the way in. They have injuries. The shuttlepod was hit by an asteroid, and they were bounced around pretty good. I don't know how badly they're hurt..."

"I understand, Commander. Can you find out if any of them are unconscious, and need to bypass decon?"

"Can't, Doc. They lost communications. We won't know anything until they dock. It'd be best if you met them in the launch bay. If it turns out they need isolation, we can always secure the bay, and vent the atmosphere to space later to clear out any bugs. "

"I'll do that, Commander." Flipping the intercom off, Phlox activated the sickbay lights, bringing them up to day-time brightness. He glanced around sickbay, making sure everything was in its accustomed place, so he wouldn't be scrambling to find equipment. He activated the imager and then put it in standby mode to save the time normally required for start up.

Grabbing a first aid kit, he headed toward the launch bay.

* * *

The three person crew of Shuttlepod Two stumbled out of the little craft as a team, Captain Archer and Lieutenant Reed supporting Ensign Carey between them. All three were coughing, and covered with soot. The trained physician's eyes took in the obvious signs of injury, as well as other details that a less astute observer might not have noted- Archer leaning forward a little too far and holding his ribs, Lieutenant Reed's awkward movements as he tried not to jostle his left arm held in an improvised sling, and Ensign Carey's pale face. Phlox mentally prioritized the injuries, and began barking orders to the med team even before he had scanned the injured crew.

When Enterprise had begun its mission earlier than planned, and without a full medical staff, Phlox had quickly asked for, and received, permission to create a first response team from the security personnel and some of the scientists on board. Although Enterprise had since obtained two bona fide med techs, the wisdom of Phlox action had been proven on many occasions, and today was no exception. The first response team arrived mere seconds behind him, and went to assist Archer and Reed while Phlox assisted the ensign to a gurney. She gratefully accepted his help. Archer and Reed both declined the gurneys, protesting that they could walk. Phlox intervened, insisting that Archer accept the assistance, but allowing Reed to remain on his feet, knowing it would probably be more painful for the armory officer to lie on his obviously dislocated shoulder than to remain upright; the doctor made sure a med tech was close by, ready to lend support if needed.

Archer was first in the scanner- Phlox was concerned that the injured ribs might have punctured a lung. While the machine ran its tests, Lieutenant Reed filled him in on how the injuries had occurred- there had been a large jolt, as yet unexplained, and all three had been thrown forward. Archer, piloting the shuttlepod, had been tossed directly into a control console. Ensign Carey had standing behind the navigator's chair. The impact had thrown her into back into the cargo area, where she had landed on her back again their equipment. She had remained conscious, but had begun complaining of back pain soon after. Reed had been in the back of the shuttle, inspecting the cargo containers, and the jolt had tossed him against a corner of the container, most of his body missing it, but his shoulder taking the full impact. He had narrowly avoided having Ensign Carey land on top of him.

The accident had occurred nearly three hours ago. The impact had knocked out several of the shuttlepod's systems, and they'd had to make their way back to Enterprise at a crawl, unable to go to maximum velocity for fear of overstressing the little craft and uncovering more damage, Reed explained. They had used the non-narcotic painkillers in the shuttle's limited field kit, afraid that the more potent medications would interfere with their ability to pilot the shuttlepod, or to deal with any other emergencies might arise en route to the Enterprise. Reed had strapped the captain's ribs, and Archer had returned the favor, rigging the sling the armory officer wore.

"I'm going to give you both painkillers while you wait. I should be done with the captain's scans in a moment, and then I'll get to you," Phlox informed them.

"Of course, Doctor," Reed replied, sitting carefully on a biobed, making no quick moves that might jar the injured arm. Phlox knew the stoic armory officer was in more pain than he let on, and resolved to work as quickly as possible to get to him. He hoped Reed wasn't concealing more serious injuries, but knowing the armory officer's history he wasn't confident. He wanted him in the scanner quickly, concerned about the injuries he believed Reed might be hiding.

"Doctor, Ensign Carey isn't looking well," Reed drew Phlox's attention back to the young woman on the next biobed. She was quite pale, the doctor noted. She was moving restlessly on the biobed, seeming unable to get comfortable. She squirmed again, and gasped with pain, and then gestured at her back. "Doctor, my back really hurts, and I'm feeling sick."

"Hmmm. Well, I suppose that's understandable. As I understand it, you were thrown pretty hard and landed on your back. Are you experiencing any numbness or tingling in your fingers or toes?

Carey again shook her head no, her face a grimace. "The painâ€¦it's getting worseâ€¦" she gasped. Phlox came over and quickly ran his hand down her spine. "Is this tender?" he asked pushing gently on her spine, and then using the hand scanner to look for a fracture.

"Noâ€¦ it's not there. I guess it's the muscles spasming," she replied.

"I believe you have some soft tissue damage. Your spine is intact. When I get you in the imaging chamber, I'll be able to see what damage has been done. In the meantime..." The doctor administered another hypospray, and then turned his attention back to the readings on Archer.

"Yes, just as I suspected, several cracked ribs." The tray holding his patient was slowly emerging from the imaging chamber as he spoke. "Captain, you'll be happy to know that your ribs are only cracked. I'll give you something for the pain, and wrap your ribs, and you can go to your quarters to rest."

"Thanks, Doc," Archer said, slowly climbing off the tray and moving awkwardly toward an unoccupied biobed. He paused, and looked at Reed and Carey, both still looking very uncomfortable. "How are you doing, Ensign? Lieutenant?"

"Fine, sir," Reed's reply was tight-lipped, and Archer could tell by the lines on the armory officer's face that he was lying. But the doctor would be taking care of him soon, so Archer didn't waste his breath arguing. He'd expressed his concern, and that was all he had the energy to do at the moment.

"And you, Ensign?"

"Fine, sir," Carey echoed Reed weakly. "Although my back..." she emitted a groan, "is really spasming..."

"Still?" Phlox looked mildly concerned. "Even after the analgesic I gave you? It should be killing most of the pain of a back sprain." Something tickled at the back of Phlox's mind, and he felt a momentary concern, but he couldn't put his finger on what was bothering him. He looked from the pale ensign to the armory officer, who was using his right hand to hold his left arm tightly against his side, trying to stabilize the joint.

"I'll scan Lt. Reed next, so I can put the shoulder back in joint. It should only take a moment," he told the two junior officers. As expected Reed protested that he could wait, but only weakly, the pain in his shoulder making it hard for him to focus on anything else. It was a slower process than Phlox had anticipated. With Reed's shoulder out of joint it was difficult to find a position on the imaging chamber tray that was tolerable, and it took a great deal of coaxing, combined with careful padding of the tray and additional pain medication before Reed was in position to be scanned. Knowing Reed's propensity for hiding injuries, the doctor was careful to conduct a thorough scan of the armory officer's entire body and was almost surprised to find no other injuries.

The tray was just being ejected from the chamber, when Phlox heard a cry from behind him. "Doctor!" Archer's voice was raised. "Something's wrong with Carey!"

Phlox hurried to the biobed and glanced quickly at the readings. Carey's vital signs had plummeted, and she was moaning with pain. "My back," she managed. "I feel's like something is ripping inside..." Gesturing to a med tech to carry the ensign to the imager, the doctor yanked Reed, who was slowly and groggily climbing off the tray, out of the way, eliciting a cry of pain from the armory officer. Depositing Carey on the tray, the doctor activated the imager, and watched with horror as the readings began scrolling across the monitor.

"Set up the surgical suite," Phlox snapped. The med tech looked at him questioningly. "She has an aortic rupture." The doctor was moving more quickly than any of the humans in the room had ever seen him move. The ensign was carried directly to the surgical suite, and the doors were closed, leaving Archer and Reed to stare after the medical team.

* * *

Phlox sat on a stool, staring at the sheet covered body. He had other things to do, tasks he knew he should be performing, but a terrible lethargy had come over him. He'd been a physician for many years, had seen many terrible injuries and serious illnesses, and had seen many patients die, beyond medical help. This case was different. Ensign Carey, like the rest of the Enterprise crew, was a friend as well as a patient. And this patient, this friend, might have been able to be saved.

He'd missed it, somehow. Ensign Carey had been in sickbay for an hour before she had crashed. He had wracked his brain, reliving every instant, second guessing every decision. Ensign Carey had complained of back pain, but she'd been stable! He was certain of it. Wasn't he? She had told him several times that her back hurt, and he knew she'd taken a severe impact to her back. Should that have been enough to clue him in? Had he really listened to her? When had he first checked her vital signsâ€¦ was there a warning there, that he'd missed? Had he given enough credence to her complaint of pain? Had he perhaps been too dismissive? Certainly he had known she was injured, and had planned to do a thorough evaluation, but he had been concerned about Reed. And why was that? Certainly the lieutenant had given no concrete indication that he'd been suffering from any serious injury, other than his dislocated shoulder, a painful, but certainly not life-threatening, condition. Why had Phlox chosen to scan him first? Would scanning Ensign Carey earlier have made a difference? Her condition was one that was frequently fatal, even if caught early. She might very well have died anyway. But the delay had sealed her fate. By the time he had her on the operating table the rupture had progressed too far. Still he had tried to repair the damage, but she'd lost so much blood during the surgery that several transfusions had been required. Her body tried had tried to stem the bleeding, and when the clotting factors had been used up, she had begun to bleed more. He'd been unable to stem the flow. Shock had set in as well, and her kidneys and liver, deprived of adequate blood flow, had failed. Ultimately, the lack of adequate blood to the heart had damaged that organ as well. Her blood pressure, already critically low, had fallen even further. The doctor had countered with drugs, tried all the treatments available, but it was to no avail. The damage was simply too great. Jaylene Carey had died, never having regained consciousness after the surgery.

Phlox planned to review his records carefully, check the biobed monitors and records to see what signs he might have missed that should have warned him of the looming disaster. The records might bear out that he had made proper decisions, that there had been nothing to tell him that she was so catastrophically injured, but the records couldn't show what had been going on inside Phlox head, what biases he might have had that had effected his decisions. Her prognosis had been dismal from the moment she'd been injured, Phlox knew, but what slim chance she'd had left, his delay had stolen from her.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: I realized as I read this, there are spoilers for several episodes, but I can't remember precisely which season they occurred in, so I apologize if I spoil any for anyone. Due to having suddenly been motivated to write, and having to essentially finish this story in the next few weeks, or risk not being able to work on it until May, I'm forgoing beta'ing on the next few sections, although I know Surya would make it better!

  
Author's notes: AN: I realized as I read this, there are spoilers for several episodes, but I can't remember precisely which season they occurred in, so I apologize if I spoil any for anyone. Due to having suddenly been motivated to write, and having to essentially finish this story in the next few weeks, or risk not being able to work on it until May, I'm forgoing beta'ing on the next few sections, although I know Surya would make it better!  


* * *

Phlox rose from his stool with a heavy sigh. He'd been sitting, nearly motionless, for the last thirty minutes. He had not left Ensign Carey's side from the moment he realized the seriousness of her condition until he pronounced her death. Even now, he was finding it difficult to leave her side. He had sent a tech to wrap Archer's ribs, and to give Reed a potent painkiller until he could put the injured shoulder back in joint. The tech had reported back that Tucker and T'Pol were also waiting; Phlox had sent word to the bridge shortly after starting the surgery that Ensign Carey's condition was critical, and they had come to sickbay as soon as they could leave the bridge. Now Phlox had to deliver the bad news. He was tempted to wait, find some other task that needed doing, but he would have to face them eventually. He was exhausted, but he still had patients to care for and the news wasn't going to get better with time.

* * *

Archer sat up on the biobed as the doctor entered. T'Pol had returned to the bridge, but Trip was sitting next to him. Archer knew immediately that the news was bad. He'd never seen the doctor look so... distraught. Not when Trip had been so badly injured he would have died without the creation of a clone that had supplied needed neural tissue, not when they had found 'Travis' dead, not ever. No matter how bad the situation, how sad the case, never before had he seen this particular expression on the physician's face.

"Doctor?" Trip spoke first, and Archer could hear in his tone that the engineer also knew the news was bad.

"I'm sorry. Ensign Carey has died. I repaired the injury, but the damage had been done. The trauma was too great." The doctor took a deep breath before delivering the next piece of information. "I didn't catch the injury in time. If I had, she might have survived."

There was silence as the captain and Trip tried to absorb the doctor's pronouncement. They had known Carey's condition was critical, but they had become accustomed to the doctor pulling injured crewmen back from death's door on a regular basis. The temptation to reassure the doctor was nearly overwhelming, but one glance at Phlox's face told them their words would be futile. The doctor was not the sort who took responsibility for things that were not his fault. Sometimes he hadn't known how to treat an injury, or there was no treatment available, and he had grieved for his patients, but never before had he claimed that his negligence had led to a death.

"I'm sure you did the best you could," Archer finally said, feeling he had to say something.

"Yes, I did. Once I diagnosed the problem. But that was an hour after your return. Nearly four hours after she was injured. If I had her in surgery first..." Phlox shook his head, then turned away to gather up supplies he was going to need.

The conversation had woken Reed. The armory officer was listening, the look of grogginess disappearing, replaced by a look of consternation. "Doctor, are you saying-"

"Mr. Reed. I'm sorry you've had to wait. I can fix your shoulder now." The doctor moved to his side.

"Wait. I need to ask you a few questions first-" Reed began, but Archer intervened. "Malcolm, let the doctor take care of your shoulder first. Other matters can wait." The captain was firm. He knew what Reed wanted to discuss, and now was not the time. The doctor was obviously devastated and in no condition for questioning, and Reed was not in any condition to conduct an official interview.

But, eventually, the questions would come.

Reed nodded, acknowledging the captain's instructions, and allowed the doctor to treat him. But when Phlox stepped closer to administer the medicine that would make the procedure nearly painless, he couldn't miss the accusation in the armory officer's eyes.

* * *

"Captain, I need to speak with you."

Archer looked up from his breakfast. He met the concerned gaze of his armory officer. He gestured for Reed to take a seat, noting the sling that held Reed's left arm still.

"I think I can guess what this is about," Archer began quietly. "I'd like to wait until after the memorial service before pursuing... other issues."

"Yes, sir," Reed said, obviously uncomfortable with that option. "But, in the meantime,... he's practicing medicine. And, with respectful sir, he doesn't seem to be in a proper mental state to do so."

"Do you have any specific examples, any evidence his patients are at risk? Or is this just a hypothetical concern? An understandable one," Archer hastened to add when Reed's face darkened, not wanting Reed to think he wasn't being taken seriously.

"No, nothing specific, sir... it's justâ€¦" Malcolm trailed off, unable to put his concerns into words. Normally, when he came to Archer with a request, he had very clear concerns, and presented them logically. Archer was a little surprised that Malcolm would have brought up the issue without having his arguments precisely laid out.

"The service is this afternoon, Malcolm. Let it rest until then. Tomorrow, you can start a full investigation."

"Sir, what if someone becomes ill in the interim? He'd--

"What if someone was hurt, Malcolm? It's not like we have anyone else available to treat the crew. Regardless of the outcome, Phlox will remain our doctor as long as we're weeks away from Earth.

Reed fell silent. Archer waited for him to respond, knowing it was the armory officer's nature to pursue the matter vigorously. But this was going to be nasty. No matter how the investigation turned out the process would be ugly, and, once started, irreversible. Archer had the sinking realization that the atmosphere of easy collegiality that he had worked so hard to nurture on his ship was about to change. To the captain's surprise, Reed just gave a curt nod.

"May I be dismissed, sir?"

"You're dismissed, Lieutenant. And Malcolm? I take your concerns seriously. The memorial service is this afternoon. Just leave this one more day."

* * *

Archer closed the comm line to Earth. It had taken Hoshi most of the morning to establish the link, and even then it had been full of static. Still, he had been able to pass his grim message to Admiral Forest. The admiral would contact Ensign Carey's family, and transmit the message Archer had prepared for them. He would also notify all the relevant Starfleet authorities, so that Carey's family would receive all the support and help they might need in dealing with her death. In the meantime, the admiral had conceded, despite the fact that the doctor was profoundly upset, there was no choice but to keep Phlox at his duties. The Enterprise was alone.

* * *

"Doctor."

Phlox looked up at the summons. Reed was standing in sickbay's door, not quite having crossed the threshold, clearly reluctant to enter.

"Ahh, Lieutenant. Come in," Phlox smiled at Reed, but his smile was sad. "What can I do for you?"

Reed didn't return the smile. "Doctor, I'm here on official business. I'd like to ask you a few questions."

Phlox nodded. "I thought that might be the case. Go ahead, Lieutenant. Ask your questions."

Reed looked uncomfortable. "Is there a place we could perhaps sit? This might take some time."

"Of course. There is a table with stools in my lab. Would that be acceptable?"

"Certainly," Reed replied. He was clearly tense, and a small part of Phlox was glad. He thought he knew what was coming, and Reed should be uncomfortable. A small part of Phlox was angry with the lieutenant, and at the investigation Reed was conducting. After all, he had had to make split second decisions, without time to fully gather all the information needed. He had feared Archer had a collapsed lung, or worse was developing a tension pneumothorax, a life-threatening emergency, and he had thought Reed might be bleeding internally. Although to be honest, there had been no indication that it was the caseâ€”it had been Phlox suspicion, based on his knowledge of Reed's personality. And he had based his decisions on that knowledge, rather than Ensign Carey's complaint of pain. For just an instant, Phlox wanted to blame the lieutenant. If he could have trusted Reed's word that the lieutenant was not further injured, he would have evaluated Ensign Carey first. Then Phlox shook his head, dismissing the thought. He couldn't blame Reed for being who he was, nor could he place the responsibility for his decisions at the lieutenant's feet.

In awkward silence the two men took seats on the stools. Reed placed a small recording device on the table. He cleared his throat before he began to speak, without looking at Phlox. "This is an interview with Dr. Phlox, regarding the death of Ensign Jaylene Carey. The date isâ€¦" Phlox listened as Reed spoke in a monotone, recording the particulars of the interview, listing the date, location, and who was present. When he had completed the mundane routine, he finally shot a glance toward Phlox.

"Doctor, please state the cause of Ensign Carey's death."

"Ensign Carey died of the complications of an aortic rupture that was a result of blunt trauma in a shuttlepod accident."

"Please explain what that means doctor." Reed listened as Phlox described, in layman's terms what an aortic rupture was, how it was frequently immediately fatal, but how in a few cases the rupture was not completeâ€”the outermost lining of the aorta remaining intact, creating a short period of time in which the patient could be saved. The doctor explained the signs, the surgical treatment, and the complications Ensign Carey has suffered. Finally, when Reed had pulled from the doctor every detail of Phlox actions and decision making process, he paused. He leaned forward, meeting the doctor's gaze directly for the first time since the interview had begun. In a low tone, practically spitting out the words, he asked, "Doctor, was Ensign Carey's death preventable?"

Meeting the gaze head on, steeling him self again the coldness in the lieutenant's eyes, Phlox gave the most honest answer he could.

"I don't know."

* * *

Archer read the dispatch for the third time, and then slammed the padd down on the desk so hard that Porthos, dozing in the corner, jumped. Archer stabbed the intercom button.

"Archer to Lieutenant Reed."

"Yes, sir?"

"Lieutenant, I want to see you in my ready room. Now."

In the two minutes it took Reed to arrive, Archer took several deep breaths, trying to calm himself, reminding himself that his armory officer was not normally prone to acts of incredible stupidity. When this didn't work, he rose and began pacing. There had to be some reason for Reed's actions, however insane they might seem. When the door chimed, Archer hit the button to open it without breaking stride.

Reed entered the ready room, and stood at attention in front of Archer's desk, eyes straight ahead, ignoring the captain's constant movement. "Lieutenant Reed reporting as ordered, sir." Clearly Reed knew that Archer had not called him here for a casual conversation; something serious was going on. Archer immediately validated that belief.

"Why, Malcolm?"

"Sir?"

"Why? Why did you send Admiral Forest a report on Phlox without clearing it with me first?"

"Sir..." Reed suddenly looked distressed. "I _did_ clear it with you. It was in the weekly security report, which you sign off on each week prior to its being transmitted."

Did Reed sound, just slightly, accusing? Archer stopped pacing and spun around to stare at the lieutenant, but Reed was looking straight ahead, his face blank, with no suggestion of arrogance or accusation. Nonetheless, Reed had backed him into a corner. He could hardly admit that he had gotten so tired of the armory officer's constant harping on the ship's security failings that he barely skimmed the security reports. Occasionally he would look to see how Reed had interpreted some event or other during the week--he had especially enjoyed the armory officer's description of a brawl between two drunk crewman returning from shore leave that had resulted in both spending a night in the brig, as a "resolved confrontation"--but he had to admit that at this point he read the reports more for entertainment value than information, not mentally thinking of approving or disproving them. And, in all honesty, he had forgotten the reports were transmitted to Starfleet. Until today.

"Lieutenant, I just received a message from Admiral Forest wanting to know how I planned to administer juris prudence out here, how I was going to provide Phlox with counsel, as required under our treaty with Denobula, and what I planned to do for a doctor during the trial and after, if Phlox was convicted. Imagine my surprise at learning I'd charged Phlox with manslaughter."

Reed shifted uncomfortably. "I never said you charged him with manslaughter, sir. I merely recommended that be the charge, based on my investigation."

"Malcolm, since when do you know enough about medicine to conduct such an investigation?"

Reed stiffened, drawing himself up a little taller. "Sir, I have consulted several experts on Earth, via subspace, and I've done research on the ship's medical database. All my sources seem to agree that Phlox should have suspected that Ensign Carey was seriously injured, and he should have seen to her injuries immediately. If he had, she might not have died. As a physician, he fell short of what was expected of him. His negligence caused her death."

For a moment Archer didn't speak, just studied the armory officer standing at attention. Reed believed what he was saying. He might not be right, but he whole-heartedly believed it. Archer knew he needed to step carefully here. It wouldn't do to be second guessing his officers. And Malcolm might be right. Archer had had every intention of seeing that a complete investigation was conducted into the matter--he just hadn't wanted to rush it. He had even considered waiting until they had completed this mission, and returned to Earth, although that wouldn't be for months. But Malcolm had forced his hand. And technically he had gone through the proper channels. Archer couldn't even reprimand him.

But there was more to it than just an investigation, Archer thought. Malcolm was taking this whole situation much too personally. Archer knew Malcolm had grown close to Ensign Carey, as he had with all the armory crew. But it was more than that. The armory officer clearly believed Phlox had committed a crime, and Archer wanted to know why.

"Lieutenant, I'd like to see the results of your full investigation, before I decide how I'm going to precede."

"Sir. As the senior officer, you will be the presiding judge in any proceedings. It wouldn't be proper, or fair to Dr. Phlox, for you to be prejudiced by having seen the investigation before it is determined if the evidence is even admissible."

Damn. Malcolm was right. The captain sighed. He would have to appoint someone to represent Phlox, and fast, and to hold a hearing- Malcolm wasn't going to let this go. Besides, Archer knew Malcolm was technically correct. But he still wished he knew why his armory officer was taking this so personally. Surely Malcolm didn't want to see anything bad happen to the doctor. He couldn't possibly actually blame Phlox for the Ensign's death. Archer, too had been on the shuttlepod, had accompanied Carey back, had been with her in the last moments of her life. And while he deeply wished things had turned out differently, wished the doctor had made the diagnosis more quickly, he knew hindsight was twenty-twenty, and that being an officer on a starship was an inherently dangerous profession. Ensign Carey's death had been tragic, but he didn't blame Phlox. Why did Malcolm?


End file.
